


The Graveyard Poet

by thwz



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 2000AU, AU, Bullying, Gen, Teen Jim, Teen Sebastian, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thwz/pseuds/thwz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian needs some time away from his overprotective parents and adult decisions piling up ahead of him. He chooses to go on a backpack holiday with a map in his hands and some cash in his pockets and lands in county Donegal in Ireland. He finds beautiful coastline, loads of sheep and... a moody teenager in his tent?</p><p>2000AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Far from the Madding Crowd

The bus probably remembered the sixties, judging by its state and the whole array of sounds it was producing crawling up and down the green hills of rural county Donegal. Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about his hands touching the sticky seat made of some ancient faux leather and the peculiar overpowering smell that reigned in the vehicle despite the effort he made to open as many windows as it was possible. At the end of a two hour long journey he was already questioning his idea to postpone the return from the festival to wander around Ireland and spend a few more nights in his new tent (which he bought especially for the occasion).

It was quite out of character for him to even come here in the first place; his experience with live shows was slight, he didn’t enjoy crowds or camping, especially in this cool, rainy climate. Yet, tired of daily bickering with his parents urging him to ‘do something with his life’, Sebastian packed up some necessities and set off to experience something outside his comfort zone. And frankly, until now, it was rather pleasant. The weather was forgiving, music- while much different from his usual tastes- fascinating, people likeable… Maybe it was the magic of the Green Island, but he felt charmed and curious of this place enough to stay a little longer.

 

He almost fell off his seat when the bus pulled up suddenly in the middle of a green meadow. Seb picked up his luggage and waddled between the empty seats to the front of the bus.

'Goodbye' he nodded to the driver, who gave him an indifferent look. The youngsters at the festival seemed all friendly, but he noticed that some of the adults he ran into weren’t as helpful or kind. Anyway, now he hoped for a silent getaway, not socializing with the locals. He heard the oceanside and cliffs near this village were especially picturesque and he was dying to dip his tired feet in the icy water.

He followed the sandy path leading through refreshingly green hills, passed by a few buildings on the outskirts of the village and continued uphill, to what he thought was the shoreline. The negative feelings accumulated in his brain during the bus ride evaporated completely as the wind sang amongst the vast spaces of green pastures and tickled his face.

 

Half an hour later Seb finally threw his backpack on the grass and flexed his back. He hadn’t had the opportunity to carry it for a long time before, and it came as a surprise when he realized how heavy his camping equipment was. Now free of his burden, he considered whether to set off further uphill to say hello to the ocean before unpacking, but eventually decided otherwise. He quickly unfolded the tent he rolled into the not very neat bundle in the morning and spent another twenty minutes putting up the small orange dome. Inside it was far more spacious than it seemed - he spent a couple of nights inside and was pleasantly surprised by how easily all of his things (and himself) fit in.

Having set up his camp, Seb stood up and looked at the sky - it was still bright, even though his waterproof watch claimed it was almost eight in the evening. He smiled to himself and turned on his heel to see if the trip was actually worthwhile. He wasn’t too anxious about leaving everything unattended; his documents and money were safe in his small waist bag. His parents taught him not to get attached to objects, but appreciate the functionality they provided and he was ready to face the mild discomfort their disappearance might cause him. Right now he only cared about the roaring waves and the smell of iodine.

  
  


The cliffs were indeed quite picturesque; towering several metres above the narrow, sandy beach and overlooking vast, steel-coloured water. Sebastian didn’t dare come closer to the edge, but enjoyed the view from five steps distance.

His agoraphobia was not as bad as it used to, thank god. He still preferred to stand firmly on the ground than to climb trees, ladders or mountains, for that matter. If only there was someone to show him around and lead safely to the beach, he sighed. He’d love to walk on the shiny big rocks stepping way into the ocean, throw some skipping stones, listen to the seagulls and maybe get a little wet.

He loved water, no matter what and where, from oceans to indoor pools. This water was so much different from the warm Indian ocean in Mumbai, where he’d go with his parents as a child. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the clear, blue sky reflected in the water, soft sand under his feet and the crash of the waves combined with multilingual chatter of the people around him. Then, still without looking at the grey, cold reality, travelled to closer past and his years spent in Egypt; diving with colorful fish and letting the sun turn his skin light brown. He could stay there forever, regardless of political situation; but his parents had other plans and he was forced to try and make the best out of it. A sudden loud cry of a seagull snapped him out of his daydream and Seb jumped with surprise. He must have stood there for a good while, he realized, shaking slightly with cold. The sun was setting, colouring the waves orange and pink and giving him a bit of a headache. Sebastian sighed, gave the sea the last sad look and headed back to his camp. His back was reminding him of how heavy his backpack had been and his stomach cried for the last two granola bars and canned meat paste he saved from the festival. ‘Tomorrow will be full of challenges’ he thought to himself, picturing an animated conversation in broken English with the local shopkeeper. Then again, there was nothing a full wallet couldn’t give him, and he made sure to withdraw a couple hundred euros for the occasion.

~.~

Finally back at the clearing Seb smiled widely seeing his tent just like he left it, sitting on the grass clean and bright even in the dying daylight. He unzipped the entrance and crawled inside, pressed the button on the small LED lamp and reached for his backpack. He was fishing for the food amongst clean socks and undies when he noticed that mere inches away there was an extra dark shape in the place his bag rested seconds ago and froze in fear. An animal? But the door was zipped closed! A human then - Seb fought the urge to back away screaming and instead raised the lamp to take a look, despite the obvious risk of alerting the intruder.

 

The light chiselled out a shape of a small human figure dressed in some black, baggy shirt and shorts, heavy boots and fingerless gloves on the ends of thin, milk-white legs and arms, respectively. Aware of being discovered, the trespasser raised their head and mouthed words ‘don’t scream, please’, their (or rather his, as Seb decided after a while of scrutiny) big dark eyes widened from fear. An early teen, with pasty skin and black, almost shoulder-long hair must have been coming through a goth or emo phase - Seb would smile to himself upon the realisation, if not for the absurdity of the situation. Instead he frowned and put down the light, then scooted closer to see the boy eye-to-eye.

‘What are you doing here??’ he inquired, not making an effort to lower his voice. The kid shrugged, as if startled.

‘I’m not stealing, from- from you’ he muttered in agitation, ‘I was h-hiding from someone, I’m s-sorry’.

Seb looked around, but he already knew the boy couldn’t have been lying. It would be much easier to just take his backpack and run off, rather than make a point to secure the door and hide.

‘Hiding from whom?’ Sebastian could easily imagine by just looking at the kid, but he didn’t really know what else to say. He had a difficult time being assertive, and despite the pity for the small guy, the fear of being a butt of some joke or scheme was out there, at the back of his mind. ‘If I may ask,’ he added quickly, hating himself for that.

‘I… there are other boys - they don’t like me much. A-at all. I was l-leading our sheep back when I ran into them and uh...’ the boy looked away and hugged himself briefly.

‘Oh… I see. I… guess you can wait a bit if that will help.’

‘I’m really s-sorry, I p-panicked.’ the boy looked back up at Seb and smiled apologetically. ‘I will g-go soon. Did you see anyone around,’ he swallowed, ‘sir?’.

Sebastian shook his head. ‘Not since I got here an hour or so ago. And  please, call me Seb” - he smiled back at the kid and reached out for a handshake.

‘Jim’ - the boy took Sebastian’s hand delicately. It was cold and sweaty, but Seb grabbed it firmly, just like his dad taught him :”No matter if they give you a fish, always squeeze and smile”.

‘I was going to have dinner,’ Seb returned to his backpack, ‘I don’t have much to offer but maybe you’d like...’

They both jumped in surprise as a juvenile voice could be heard right outside the tent, quickly followed by a couple more, discussing something excitedly in Irish. Seb didn’t need to understand the words to know they must have been Jim’s bullies - a worried expression of the smaller boy supported this theory. Without much hesitation, Seb walked to the door on all fours, unzipped it open and got out.

 

There were six of them, all dark haired and dark-eyed like Jim, two girls and four boys aged perhaps twelve to fifteen. Upon noticing Sebastian, they stopped talking and observed him, exchanging smirks and nudges. Seb did not feel very confident; He didn’t expect an attack from the giggling group, but he didn’t really know WHAT to expect for that matter. He just hoped he knew English as well as Jim.

‘Good evening’ He started carefully, ‘can I help you?’

The teens pushed the tallest boy forward, whispering and laughing. The boy put on a self-confident smile of a class troublemaker and put his hands on his hips.

‘We’re looking for a ...friend’ one of the girls laughed hysterically and the other one whispered something into the leader’s ear ‘A girl. Long black hair, black clothes and gloves’ he could barely stop himself from bursting into laughter ‘She’s a little sick and we must get her home’. He made sure to make a gesture suggesting the nature of his lost companion’s sickness, again making the group snicker.

‘Sorry, no. I haven’t seen anyone like that around’ Seb assured. The kids looked disappointed, but didn’t try to push him further and quickly retreated back in a good mood, chatting between themselves and - Seb was sure - giggling about the stranger in his orange tent. He observed them until they disappeared from the view and crawled back into the tent.

 

Jim was curled up in a tiny ball hidden behind a rolled sleeping bag. Seb could feel his heart sink; this kid didn’t have it easy with peers like that. They didn’t seem harmful to him, but he was a grown man. eighteen years old and six feet tall and not a small, sensitive kid on the search for his individuality. He sat down, and took out all his remaining food.

Jim slowly emerged from his hiding spot and observed Sebastian in silence. Seb smiled to him and handed him a piece of toast with canned meat spread.

‘Here. I don’t have much to offer but I suppose you missed your dinner because of those jerks.’

Jim blushed and took the bread. ‘Thanks. I… I should be going home. My parents must be worried.’ He was staring at his food, avoiding eye contact with the other boy.

‘I’ll walk you home’ Seb didn’t expect himself to suggest that, but it was one responsible thing to do; unless…

‘Maybe we could call your parents, too?’ he fished out a mobile from his waist baggy. Jim shook his head.

‘We don’t have a phone at h-home. B-but thank you for the o-offer.’

No phone? What kind of village was it? It said in the guide that the area was rural and many people spoke primarily Irish but it was hard to believe they could be so disconnected from the world! He stared at Jim in surprise until the smaller boy started blushing even harder.

‘It’s .. it’s nothing. Please, eat and we’ll get going. I have some coke here, too…

~.~

A quarter later Jim, now fed properly and with a can of coke in his hand, was leading him in the darkness through the meadows. Seb was looking around nervously trying to memorize the way. He also searched the barely-visible now horizon for any silhouettes; He didn’t want the bullies to catch him lying.

 

‘Your parents have a farm, right?’ He asked finally, speeding up to catch up to Jim, who navigated in the dark like an owl or bat.

‘We have a flock of sheep, a few chickens...we also grow some vegetables. Mostly for ourself, but we sell the wool and some milk products. Wouldn’t call it a farm, though’.

‘Would it be okay if I came around in the morning and bought some food then? I’d rather not go to the village yet. My Irish is not very good,’ Seb chuckled nervously.

‘Don’t see why not. I’ll ask mum. We’re up early so whenever you’re ready,’ James pointed at the lights in the distance ‘we’re here. I’ll get there safely, promise’.

Seb couldn’t really tell in the dark but it seemed like Jim gave him a cheeky smile. He grinned back.

‘Okay, and I’ll try to find my way back. If I don’t come tomorrow, consider me lost and call the police’.

‘No phone, remember?’ Jim was already a couple of yards away. Seb giggled and headed back to where he hoped to find his camp.

 


	2. A friend is worth all hazards we can run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's second day in the "wilderness".

Sebastian slept reasonably well, considering the conditions. It was slightly chilly during the night but buried comfortably in his sleeping bag he didn’t feel half bad and actually got up rested and even quite excited about the day - especially the prospect of maybe taking a quick dip in the ocean to finally wash himself a bit. He has ran out of impeccably clean clothes and was starting to feel quite uncomfortable and a bit itchy.

He dressed up and tidied up inside of his tent, then sat outside sipping his last can of coke. He was glad that he arranged a bit of exchange with Jim’s family last night - hopefully the boy remembered to ask his parents to prepare some food for him. He finished the drink quickly, threw the can into his tent and zipped the entrance. The rumbling of his stomach was getting worse by the second, so he fastened his waist bag belt and hurried to Jim’s house.

 

Jim called his place a cottage, but what Sebastian pictured in his mind didn’t look anything like what he saw upon arriving. First of all, it was tiny. Built of mossy stone bricks, with tall, triangular thatched roof, tiny windows and really short door painted dark green, it was almost invisible against rocks and gloomy little bushes. Even flowerbeds at the front didn’t manage to cheer up the place which, to Sebastian, seemed like the most depressing little house he’s seen since he arrived at the isles a year ago. His silent hopes of using the bathroom came crashing down the moment he saw a stone outhouse standing nearby - its green door with the little crescent-shaped hole only worsening the feeling of disappointment. So, his new acquaintance wasn’t particularly wealthy. Poor thing, he thought, treading carefully along the stone path and letting a lonely brown hen walk past him. He stopped in front of the door, fixed his flannel shirt and hair, then shyly knocked. The door opened almost immediately, and he faced a tiny, plump woman - her eyes, nose and lips very much alike Jim’s and long, black hair tied in a loose bun full of white strands. “She must have had Jim quite late” Sebastian thought to himself, and reached out his hand with a smile.

‘Good morning, is Jim home? We met yesterday…’ he started quickly before the woman nodded excitedly and disappeared inside the cottage.

‘Yes, yes,’ she answered enthusiastically, as she soon emerged from the house, this time carrying a huge woven basket, apparently full of stuff and covered with a linen cloth - ‘please, he asked for some food for you. You can return the basket later’ she smiled and handed Seb the basket. It was quite heavy.

‘How much do I owe you?’ Seb reached out to his baggy, but Jim’s mum protested.

‘Nothing, please, take it. We have enough food to share’ she folded her hands and stepped back. ‘Just return the basket, please.’

‘Oh. Well, thank you very much then. I’ll get it back soon.’ Seb initiated a handshake and, when the woman squeezed his hand, left a note in her hand, fleeing before she could return it.

They definitely needed the money, that was certain. He just hoped he didn’t offend Jim’s mum too much.

 

Seb looked into the basket only back at his camp, to discover he was now stocked for another day at the very least - certainly worth the 20 euros he paid for the food. A bottle of milk, ten eggs, a big chunk of homemade cheese and even a couple of what looked like home baked rolls. Seb dug into the food excited to try the local specialities.

Sheep milk and cheese were probably an acquired taste, he decided later, but they were decently satisfying for someone who lived off canned meat patty for the last couple of days.

 

It was near the noon when Sebastian finally found Jim again. He was strolling around slightly unsettling scenery, consisting mostly of weirdly-shaped rocks sticking out from masses of jade-coloured grass when he noticed a small flock of sheep feeding at the slightly sloped pasture at the distance. At a quite large, probably five feet tall rock in the middle was sitting a small figure, distinctly black against all this green and grey. Seb zigzagged between the animals (they smelled more than he’d imagine something that sweaters come from would) and stood in front of the rock. He could finally take a better look at the kid now, in the brighter light, and decided that he was actually older than he initially thought - just very puny and short for his age. Today, Jim was wearing a t-shirt with some washed-off band logo and the same pair of dark ripped trousers he had on yesterday- or another similar pair anyway. He was so engrossed in a huge book he was holding open on his lap that he only noticed Sebastian when he pat him on the leg- and almost fell off, surprised.

‘Sebastian, hi!’ he huffed as Seb grabbed his hands to keep him safe on the rock. ‘What are you doing here?’ His face lighted up in a blushy smile for a second, and Seb realized he was wearing some kind of eyeliner, which, paired with his longish hair and fragile build really gave him a slightly feminine look. He smiled back.

‘Just walking around, admiring the views. You said you were minding the sheep so I hoped I may walk into you’ he climbed up next to Jim and looked around. Jim scooted a few inches away to give him more space, and closed his book.

‘A Handbook of Descriptive and Practical Astronomy?’ Seb raised his eyebrows ‘quite an ambitious read, dare I say’.

Jim pressed the book against his chest in an emotional gesture. ‘Well, I like it. It’s a bit dated, but what can you expect from a village library’.

‘You must be doing great at school with interests like that’

James pouted ‘I don’t go to school. Parents teach me at home. And yes, I’m doing fine.’ the boy looked away, suddenly saddened ‘they took me away from there when I was eleven. These halfwits wouldn’t let me live.’

Sebastian put his hand on Jim’s shoulder, feeling a pang of guilt. He really didn’t mean to upset the kid; he seemed so excited to have someone to talk to, and Seb rarely got this feeling from anybody. ‘I understand’ he mumbled, finally ‘ I was homeschooled, too. I used to stammer and had this massive social phobia’ he sighed. It wasn’t entirely true; His parents didn’t feel it was safe for him to attend even a private school in India and this separation from peers, more than anything, caused his problems with making friends and self-confidence. But Jim didn’t need to know that.

‘You did?’ Jim looked up ‘you don’t seem like someone who’d have this kind of problems. Being all ...’ he made a vague gesture ‘...you know. Like this.’

Seb couldn’t help but giggle ‘Like this? Tall and clumsy? Oh please. I could say the same about you, being all smart and well-spoken’.

Once again, he wished he had bit his tongue, when he saw Jim blush and shrink on his spot. They sat in silent for a couple of uncomfortable minutes befor Jim finally spoke.

‘How long are you staying here?’ he sounded a little disinterested but the way he stared at Sebastian with broadly open eyes spoiled the effect a bit. Seb sighed.

‘Not sure yet, probably a day or two. Haven’t really seen the ocean - I couldn’t figure out the way down to the beach.’

‘Oh, I can take you there!’ Jim’s tone changed so abruptly it must have surprised even himself ‘ that is, if you feel like going now’ he finished on a lower note, shrugging as if the first sentence never happened. Seb couldn’t hide a smile.

‘Sure, sounds like fun. Can you leave your sheep though?’ he looked around at Jim’s flock ‘won’t they like, disperse or something?’

‘Nah,’ Jim shrugged again ‘they aren’t stupid, you know. I mostly sit with them so that my mum doesn’t find something else for me to do.’

‘In that case...’ Seb jumped down and landed softly on the grass, then stretched out his arms to assist the other boy. Although reluctantly, Jim accepted his help.

‘Alright then. The cliffs are this way,’ the boy pointed the way and marched on, not looking at Sebastian, who hurriedly followed him, through the pasture and down the hill.

~~.~~

 

The sea roared angrily as the waves were crushing against dark rocks of the cliffs. Hidden between two larger massives was a narrow sandy beach. Looking carefully down, Seb couldn’t see any way to reach it. Jim observed him curiously, with his arms folded and raised eyebrows.

‘Perhaps it’s a bit too late for that, but is there something you’d want to tell me?’ he asked, half jokingly. Seb gave him a worried look.

‘Like what?’ his face was white as paper.

‘Like the fact that you are obviously afraid of heights’ Jim approached him and grabbed by the arm, then pulled away from the edge ‘I’m not sure if you’ll like the path I had on mind. It’s pretty steep.’

‘No, no, I can handle it.’ Sebastian assured eagerly ‘I really, really do.’

Jim shrugged ‘Alright then, but mind it, I won’t be carrying you back up if you get stuck.’ He pointed out at the dodgy-looking path at the distance ‘that’d be our way.’

 

The path seemingly disappeared after about 200 yards - or so did Seb think. In fact, it turned into two feet long and half foot wide stone steps protruding from an almost-uniform wall of the cliff. Seb swallowed loudly, but courageously marched, or rather crept, on. The way down was excruciatingly long and scary, and despite his best effort, Sebastian did get stuck on several occasions, but his younger guide waited patiently every time until the panic attack passed and the boy was able to continue on.

‘Normally, it would take me about two minutes’ sighed Jim when they finally reached the beach ‘not half an hour. But you were pretty brave, considering.’ he turned to Seb, smiling.

Seb was sitting on the sand with the look of complete awe on his face. It was a horrible, scary and exhausting but finally it was over, he could feel firm ground under his feet (and currently his butt) and the ocean was roaring like an enormous, but friendly, green cat.

Jim sat next to him, his boots digging into the moist sand.

‘Here you go, the ocean. I gather you’re satisfied, sir?’

‘Like hell I am. Is it cold?’

Jim blinked a few times, puzzled. ‘What? Of course it is cold. You aren’t going to swim in it, are you?!’ His maquillage’d eyes seemed even bigger then last night, widened in surprise. Seb chuckled.

‘I might too! Although I was thinking about dipping my feet for starters,’ he began undoing his sneakers. Jim observed him in silence as he put his shoes and socks neatly aside, rolled up his jeans and stood up.

‘I’m going to walk around for awhile. Maybe you want to come closer so we can chat or something?’ Seb rubbed his hands against his thighs, getting rid of the sand that got stuck to them. Jim shrugged and reached out his hand for Seb to help him stand up, which he did immediately.

 

‘I don’t think I’ll be bathing today’ Seb decided as the first two waves licked his feet. Jim snickered behind his back. ‘But I’m at the very least washing my feet. So don’t laugh and come here!’ He turned away from the ocean and watched Jim look for the safest and driest way to join him. He smiled to himself as the kid marched alongside the beach towards a more suitable spot. He was such a puzzling, yet fun little dude.

 

‘What does your day look like, anyway?’ Seb was ankle-deep in the water, which was still very cold, but bearable ‘when you don’t show tourists around, that is.’

‘Nothing interesting I guess?’ Jim was sitting on a rock sticking out of water nearby, his legs dangling just above the surface. ‘I help around the house, mind the sheep, run some errands, then I have classes, eat, sleep, usual stuff. Probably really boring in comparison to your day.’

‘I don’t know, not really? I don’t have too much to do these days, not until I go away to study. Hmm’ he paused as he saw something shiny and bowed to pick it up. ‘You have oysters here?’ He showed half of the shell to Jim, who nodded.

‘Quite a lot. I sometimes come down here to gather some for my parents. I’m allergic.’

‘Dang, sorry to hear that. I love seafood’ he dropped the shell back into water.’How are your parents doing at this home-schooling thing? They have some teachers’ books?’

‘Not really? Just some guidelines from school.’ Jim shrugged, ‘I pass my evaluation tests so I’m guessing they’re doing alright.’

‘They... wow, they must have quite some knowledge.’ Seb was impressed. He wouldn’t guess that tiny lady he talked to this morning was educated enough to almost single-handedly teach her … what grade was Jim in again? Did he actually say?

‘Wait, how old are you?’ he raised his head and looked Jim straight in the eyes. The smaller boy couldn’t refrain himself from blushing.

‘Fourteen. I know I don’t look that old…’

‘You do sound the part. Even older, I’d say’ Seb smiled broadly ‘Not to mention your academic interests’. He paused as Jim started giggling ‘Astronomy?’

‘Yeah, Astrophysics in general. Mum says I take after my dad. He’s a mathematician.’

‘So theory more than practice?’ Seb was amazed ‘Most people start with stargazing before they move to weird graphs and equations’...

Jim laughed heartily again, ‘I do that too. At cloudless nights, at least, which don’t happen too often.’

‘The sky must be wonderful here, in the countryside’ Sebastian sighed dreamily, walking towards the beach. He could hardly feel his feet anymore, and his trousers were soaked in water, adding to the unpleasant sensation.

‘It is. Hell, you can see by yourself at night!’ Jim jumped down his rock and was waiting on the sand. ‘Or I can show you’ he added quieter.

‘If your parents are alright with that, I see no problem. Mind to hand me my shoes? I don’t want to get too much sand inside them’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the title contributed by Edward Young.


	3. To each his suff'rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peaceful atmosphere is broken by a thunder of emotions.

They split at the crossroads.

‘It wasn’t too bad this time, was it?’ Jim smiled to Sebastian, the warm glimmer in his black eyes. Seb giggled:

‘It was terrifying all the same, but I knew the way and distance… and I didn’t want to be a wuss about it.’ he poked out his tongue, making Jim chuckle.

‘I guess I should try doing some shopping, maybe do some sightseeing around the village’ he shrugged. ‘I am not particularly thrilled about it but I can’t be living off your mum’s cooking till I leave.’

‘Why not?’ Jim’s face instantly froze, became even paler than usual ‘there’s nothing interesting in there either…’

‘I take it you won’t be coming with me, then?’ Seb raised his eyebrow. Jim seemed really uncomfortable all of a sudden, and it made Sebastian even less eager to check what’s so bad about the village, but he also needed his fix of caffeine (even if it was just in coke) and sugar, and was out of other options. ‘I should be back in an hour or so - you’ll find me in my tent. If you want to hang out, of course.’

Jim nodded.

‘Thank you for the trip!’ He turned back to wave and almost resigned seeing Jim’s upside down smile.

‘No problem…’ the boy waved him and turned away almost immediately, hands in his pockets and head hanging low, his black hair covering his eyes.

~~.~~

It took Seb less than an hour to make a trip to the village and back. There really wasn’t too much to see - a main square with a couple of small shops, a library, a pub, a church with a cemetery (a little creepy, considering how close the other houses were - Seb wouldn’t like to live across the street and stare at the centuries old crosses through his bedroom window), a decorative pond and… not much else, really. According to James, the school was in the closest town and so was the post office. Disappointing and very, very depressing.

Thankfully, the store was pretty well-stocked and the owner rather cooperative, so Seb managed to find all he planned to get and didn’t even get overcharged much. Truthfully, the trip wasn’t too bad at all. The weather got significantly worse, though, the sky was overcast by heavy, dark clouds and it got chilly. That’d be it for the stargazing.

Back at his camp, Sebastian unpacked his groceries and set out to cook something for dinner - he decided to finally christen his tiny primer stove. He bought it especially for the trip, and kept carrying around despite its significant weight, but haven’t touched until now. He was watching the sausages hiss and smoke in the small aluminium pot when someone sat down next to him, making him jump with surprise.

‘JIM! My god, you scared the living shit out of me. Haven’t heard you come at all!’

Jim didn’t answer. He sat with his knees close to his chest, and immediately lowered his head so that the other boy couldn’t see it.

‘What is it?’ Seb turned down the flame under his pot and scooted closer to Jim. The smaller boy shrugged, as if avoiding a hit. Seb grew more suspicious and even more concerned.

‘Jim, please. I want to help,’ he raised his hand and delicately brushed the fringe off Jim’s forehead and gasped. His right eye was swollen and purple, make-up mixed with tears leaving black streaks down his reddened cheeks. There was a hint of dried blood under the boy’s nose and mouth; he looked so miserable Seb felt his his own eyes fill with tears.

‘It’s n-nothing’ Jim sobbed and pushed Sebastian’s hand away ‘don’t touch me!’

Seb obediently pulled away; he didn’t want to upset the boy any further but the case seemed serious. Someone beat him, and pretty heavily too. He feared to guess if that was one of his educated parents or ‘just’ bullies. But before trying to find out there was a few things he needed to do.

‘Here. It’s cold. Should make it hurt less’.

Jim was still sitting in his pseudo- fetal position when he heard Seb’s voice after a five-or-so minute long pause. Reluctantly, he raised his head and peeked at Sebastian with his healthy eye and faced a familiar blue can of pepsi. A little surprised, he straightened more and gave the other boy a questioning look.

‘Put it against your eye. Or nose. I don’t have any raw meat or frozen food’

Jim gave him another unsure look, but eventually took the can and pressed it to his bruised eye, squealing a little when the cold metal touched the aching area.

Seb returned to his now slightly burned sausages and broke a few eggs into the pot, stirring energetically. Nothing raised morale quite as well as warm food, in his experience at least. He kept an eye on Jim, now a little more relaxed, his breathing almost peaceful and more regular. Feeling his mouth water Seb divided the ready meal into two bowls and put one next to Jim, on the grass, and quickly dug into his own portion. Jim protested.

‘T-thanks but… I can’t…’

‘Please, there’s enough for both of us,’ Sebastian smiled.

‘N-no I… we don’t eat meat on Fridays…’ Jim explained, blush visible even under his bruises. It took Seb a while to connect the dots but he nodded with understanding and took the bowl away from the other boy.

‘Would you like some bread with cheese, then?’ he inquired. Jim shook his head again.

‘Maybe l-later. I feel a little s-sick.’ he sniffled, a tear running down his cheek. Seb felt another wave of sadness rolling in his chest and without thinking much kneeled next to the smaller boy and squeezed his hand. Jim didn’t wince this time - he tried to smile, but his quivering lips wouldn’t fold in a proper shape.

‘Who did this to you?’ Seb whispered, promising to himself he will make sure the motherfucker will pay.

Jim didn’t answer; he let go of the pepsi can, put his arms around Seb and let out a miserable sob. ‘I’ll fucking rip their legs off’, Seb made another vow to himself, stroking the smaller boy’s back. Jim was holding on to him like a lifesaver, the grip tightening as he let himself break down completely.

They sat embraced for a while until Jim calmed down; Sebastian’s shirt was soaked with his tears and stained by his runny eyeliner, but he didn’t care. Someone abused this tiny thing and he chose to seek haven in his arms - it was a responsibility Seb readily accepted and a minor inconvenience couldn’t distract him from his goal .

‘Here, dry your eyes’ he handed Jim a tissue upon noticing him attempt to wipe his eyes with his own forearm. Jim nodded and rubbed the tissue against his healthy eye - it was so red and puffy now Seb could mistake it for the bruised one - then blew his nose and pushed the crumpled paper into his pocket. Seb finally moved a little further away from the boy, giving him some space, and hastily finished his half of the dinner. Jim observed him in silence before he spoke in cracking voice:

‘Can I have the pop?’

**~~.~~**

The sky was dark grey as they were walking quickly towards Jim’s house. Initially, the boy didn’t want to go back but Seb insisted; not before he ensured that it was not Jim’s parents who beat him up, though.

‘H-how could you even say such a thing?’ Jim’s eyes widened in surprise and horror when Sebastian, albeit delicately, asked him about their involvement, ‘My mama… I mean, mum and dad would never hurt me like this!’ He spoke louder than Seb has ever heard him before and moved away from the older boy. Seb had to spend a good while apologizing before Jim opened up.

‘I don’t want to worry them with this stupid black eye. They’ve been dealing with ...it… for so long, I feel so bad when they see me like this,‘ he pointed at his face, ‘They were sure I was safer now that they took me away from school’ he looked down, and continued with guilt in his voice ‘It’s my fault I can’t keep away from trouble.’

Seb was feeling dizzy. The more Jim talked about his bullies, their cruel pranks and schemes and lack of reaction from the environment, the louder the blood hummed inside his head and the stronger he rolled his fists. If only they met those douchebags, he’d have a word or two with them.

Consumed by his thoughts Sebastian failed to notice that Jim’s footsteps grew quiet. Only remote crack of thunder brought him round - he looked around, and didn’t find his little companion by his side.

‘Jim?’ He turned back, alarmed. Jim was standing a couple of yards away, white as snow, arms folded around his own torso. Seb strutted back to him, first drops of rain running down his glasses.

‘What is it? Are you alright?’ He bowed to face the smaller boy, who just pointed at something at the distance. A group of people. James hid his face in Sebastian’s shirt with a silent whine.

‘Look, Moriarty’s taking his new boyfriend home!’

‘Caught red-handed!’ The group sped up jumping over puddles, quickly appearing on the ground and between rocks. Seb stepped forward, letting James hide behind him. Without realizing, he let a small smile crawl up on his face. His wish had been granted.

Another rumble of laugh coincided with the sky cracking and lighting up the meadow. One of the older boys, maybe sixteen years old, got ahead of his group and stopped right in front of Sebastian, his teeth showing in a cheeky smile.

‘We saw you two on the beach today’ he put his arms on his waist ‘you know, it’s not actually a girl. He’s just a little perv-’

Sebastian didn’t quite record the moment he made the decision - perhaps it was just his fist that rolled even tighter and sprung towards the teen’s jaw.

He watched mesmerized as blood sprayed in a cloud of tiny beads and mixed with the raindrops on his glasses. He grabbed the kid slipping away from his reach by the collar of his T-shirt and hit again, then again, ignoring the stinging in his hand and the other teens, who ran up to him, panicking and pulling at his arms, desperately trying to free their fellow from his grasp. He kicked and hit blindly at the opponents until they finally pulled the boy away, throwing invectives in English and Irish.

Seb sat down on the wet grass. He blinked a couple of times, but he couldn’t make out much - he raised his hand to wipe his glasses, but realized he wasn’t wearing them - They must have fallen off his nose during the fight. His hand stang as he moved his fingers, and even with naked eyes he could see it was covered in blood. His mind was blank, save for the blinding crimson of blood and deafening beating of his own heart.

James kneeled down and picked Sebastian’s glasses up. He wiped them delicately with his top and shakily put them back on the bigger boy’s nose. There was no reaction.

He plopped down next to Sebastian and watched his bullies run away, dragging their injured friend behind until they disappeared behind curtains of rain which grew thicker by the minute.


	4. And hie him home at evening's close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian walks Jim home, meets Mr Moriarty and contemplates an offer.

Sebastian could feel the cold shower on his head, torso, even inside his shoes, but didn’t mind it too much. It was washing away all the blood and accumulated dirt from the last couple of days, and along with it the pressure and anger still left after the fight. Or assault, since the other guy didn’t really fight back. He got a taste of his own medicine, Seb thought. He didn’t feel guilty in the slightest, and Jim’s reassuring touch was telling him that the feeling was justified.

‘Your hand looks kinda bad’ the smaller boy noticed finally, his voice hardly audible against howling wind. He was stroking Sebastian’s forearm and wrist, trying not to hurt the knuckles, now almost skinless from grinding against teeth and jaw of the other teen. It really looked quite miserable and definitely painful. Seb shrugged.

‘I’ll live. I’ve got a first-aid kit back in my tent. I’d like to walk you home first, though.’ He finally faced James, his bright eyes eerily empty, even though his mouth was crooked in a smile. James gave him a nod and silently scrambled back on his feet. He was shivering slightly, from excitement as well as from cold. His clothes were completely soaked now and every blow of the wind made it almost freezing cold.

 

They made the rest of the way back to Jim’s cottage running through the puddles, James guided by memory rather than sight and Sebastian following him blindly. After a couple of minutes they stopped by its door, panting and shivering. Jim took Sebastian’s healthy hand and pushed the door open - the light from the inside exploded into their faces, once again making Sebastian feel blind as a mole.

The next quarter was a blur. Jim’s mum lamenting over their state, then noticing her son’s black eye. A broad-shouldered, bearded man (mister Moriarty, as Seb guessed) springing forward, Jim and his mum holding him back. Lots of loud exchanges in Irish.

‘Let me show this… this sonuva…’

‘Patrick, for Christ’s sake!’

‘Dad. Please, no, it’s…’

Sebastian retreated, holding his arms up in defensive gesture. It was a mistake! He didn’t touch James, if that’s what the Moriartys thought - it might have looked that way but it made no sense! In his confusion he was ready to run away, but thankfully Jim finally managed to explain what happened - at least that’s how Sebastian perceived it, knowing literally not a word in Irish, in which the majority of the conversation was led.

Mr Moriarty finally sat back down, and his wife brought some disinfectants and bandages to clean and dress their wounds.

It wasn’t until then that Sebastian could finally look around the cottage. It was surprisingly well-lit and cozy in comparison with the gloomy exterior. The walls were painted white and decorated with colorful fabric and pictures of saints; most of the furniture was wooden with intricate carvings. The central point of the kitchen (which seemed to serve also as the living room) was a huge stone fireplace, currently filled with dancing flames. In all, it was quite inviting and pleasant, if somewhat old-fashioned. Frankly, though, he’d appreciate a mud hut at this point, as long as it had a source of heat, and Jim’s fireplace was more than enough.

‘You should see Sebastian, he beat Lucas to pulp’ Jim was sitting on the bench, holding a piece of meat to his face and chattering like a little magpie, his legs dangling in the air. His father was observing Sebastian with suspicion in his black eyes. He, too, was dark-haired and pale like Jim and his mum, but much wider and muscular in built. Although fairly short, he was incredibly intimidating and Sebastian was sure he could easily kick his ass if son and wife hadn’t convinced him to calm down.

‘You two should take off these drenched clothes’ mrs Moriarty announced when she finished bandaging Sebastian’s hand. ‘I’ll lend you my husband’s shirt, it should fit you, dear.’ She smiled warmly to Sebastian and started cleaning the table. ‘You too, James. Show your friend around, will you?’

‘Come on’ Jim jumped off the bench and pointed at a stepladder in the corner ‘My room is up there.’ He paused for a second and added with concern in his voice ‘Will you be able to make it? With that hand, it can be a little…’

‘No, I’m fine.’ Seb protested. He stood up and waited ready next to the ladder, letting his host first. The smaller boy climbed like a monkey, almost skipping steps - Seb watched in amazement and followed slowly, keeping his hurting hand close by and barely balancing without its aid.

Jim’s room was windowless, with sloped wooden ceiling and walls. ‘My dad built it just for me’ he explained, sitting on his narrow bed and lighting up a gas lamp. The room was much moodier than the rest of the house, but Seb smiled as he looked around. Teen’s bedrooms were all similar and Jim was no exception - plastering his walls with newspaper cut-outs, photographs, handwritten song lyrics and vinyl covers. There was an old-fashioned cassette player and a tower of tapes labelled with graph paper on the shelf, just next to a pile of books (mostly scientific) and notebooks. On the small bedsit table sat a classic alarm clock, more books and a wooden boat. He also caught a glimpse of a weathered rag doll before Jim managed to stick it under the pillows.

He sat on the floor and took off his shoes and socks. He looked up at Jim who did the same.

‘Thank you for letting me wait out the rain’ he finally spoke. Jim shrugged.

‘It was nothing.’ He moved away from the light and wrestled out of his trousers and hanged them at the head of his bed, then covered himself with a blanket.

‘Are you okay?’

It was Seb’s turn to shrug.

‘I just beat the living shit out of a teen I don’t know. Don’t apologize’ - he anticipated Jim’s reaction - ‘It was very satisfying. But I don’t feel like it was the most admirable act.’ He sighed.

Jim got out of his bed and stood before Sebastian, his thin legs seemed blue from cold. Seb suspected his looked the same. He still hasn’t undressed and his wet clothes felt gross plastered to his skin.

‘I am also a little intimidated by your dad.’ he admitted after a pause. Jim giggled.

‘He does that to people. For a second there I was sure he’ll come onto you.’

‘Is that supposed to make me feel safer?’ Seb asked jokingly, raising a brow and causing James to laugh again.

‘I wanted you to know you’re not the only one who’s scared of him. I’ll go and fetch you some clothes.’

Seb watched the other boy disappear in the trapdoor and proceeded to take off his clothes. Jim was laughing, but deep in heart he read the last sentences as an alarm - he did love his parents but sure as hell it wasn’t always a peaceful and warm place.

 

Just as he thought that, he heard voices downstairs. Again, in Irish, so no eavesdropping  was possible, sadly. It was a bad habit, but being a quiet person himself Sebastian often ended up listening to other people’s conversations and getting emotionally involved in their business. He rarely addressed the information he accidentally learned and definitely didn’t use it but the fact remained. His mother would be appalled if she knew.

He spread his shirt and trousers on the floor, trying not to think about how the situation might look to a bystander. Shivering, he hugged his legs and waited for the promised dry change. Finally, he heard steps and Jim’s head appeared next to him. He seemed a little upset, to say the least. He put a pile of clothes and books on the floor and climbed up next to Sebastian.

‘Sorry it took so long. My parents remembered that I haven’t done any schoolwork today’ he made a face and pointed at the books ‘I have some math to go through before dinner. Hope you don’t mind.’

Seb shook his head and glimpsed at the books. Advanced geometry and integrals…

‘Here. We didn’t find any trousers that may fit you, though. You can take this blanket for now if your legs feel as cold as mine’.

Seb picked up the shirt and straightened up to put it on, exposing his bare chest and stomach. The shirt was made of white, slightly coarse fabric and judging by its strange measurements it was made specifically for mr Moriarty - a little short on Sebastian, but wide-chested, with huge collar and loose sleeves. He wasn’t going to be picky though - it was warm and comfortable enough. He was doing up the small shiny buttons when he noticed James’ eyes following his movements. He raised his head and looked him in the face, which made the boy blush and turn away. Shit.

‘S-sorry. Didn’t want to -’ Jim mumbled, trembling.

‘NO, no no I -’

Seb folded the blanket around himself like a bathing towel and sat closer to Jim’s bed where he expected him to do his maths. James crawled back under  covers and lied on his belly, spreading the books and a notebook in front of himself.

‘It looks like pretty advanced stuff’ Sebastian noticed.

‘Not really -’ Jim’s pen was already dancing on paper, leaving small, neat numbers and symbols line under line. No hesitating, no minor calculations on the side. Jim was like a machine, crunching numbers and finishing equation after equation.

‘If it’s so easy, why are you so angry about it?’ Sebastian wondered aloud, observing Jim with fascination. It really didn’t seem like he actually needed to do those at all…

‘First of all, I am having a guest over.’ Jim almost snarled. ‘Second of all, there’s ten pages more of it so even at this pace it will take me a good hour’ he thumbed through the chapter of the book to illustrate his point ‘And last of all, my mum just reminded me that I promised to do some reading and I haven’t started yet. As if it was such an urgent matter!’ he turned back to counting with a heavy sigh.

‘I feel it’s my fault. Maybe I’ll just take a book and keep quiet until you’re done?’

‘Actually…’ Jim paused again and looked at Seb, last suggestions of the blush still on his cheeks ‘have you read any of Hawthorne’s short stories?’

‘Probably most of the better known ones. I am pretty well read when it comes to classics. I… I’m actually going to study literature.’ Seb stumbled slightly with his words. It was a little embarrassing, in comparison with Jim’s crazy math skills at least, but Jim seemed impressed.

‘Awesome! Maybe you can give me a little synopsis of Rappaccini's Daughter or P.'s Correspondence?’

‘I can try… Won’t I, you know, disturb your work or something?’ It was a little much to ask of Jim, do these calculations and listen to Seb’s blabber at the same time. He himself couldn’t as much as read and listen to music at the same time. But Jim shook his head and smiled encouragingly.

‘It won’t. It will be less boring like this. I wish someone could talk or read to me always when I do my homework…’

‘OK then, let me think a little… I think I remember Rappaccini’s Daughter better. It’s actually considered a sci-fi story by some, you know? Anyway there was this man…’

 

*~~*

It’s been about half an hour later when Sebastian was finishing the second story (he didn’t remember it too clearly but he did remember the story behind its creation and analysis he’d read in his literature handbook so he considered it helpful anyway) when Jim’s mother climbed up the ladder with two mugs, a plate of cheese sandwiches and two apples on a big wooden tray.

‘I see you are having good time together, boys’ She smiled to Sebastian and looked around the room ‘You could turn up the light though, dear. It’s so dark in here - and why didn’t you hang Sebastian’s clothes to dry?’ She picked up Seb’s things, including shoes and socks, from the floor. Seb sprung up to help her but she pointed at him and exclaimed ‘No, stay where you are, dear. It’s not your fault, I’ll do this. James, they’d be half dried already if you did it when I asked you…’

‘I forgot’ Jim threw apathetically from his spot. He didn’t as much as look at his mum since she came up with food - they must have really fought over that homework, Sebastian thought watching them bicker again, switching between two languages.

‘As you want. But you are the host so don’t make me ashamed of you’ mrs Moriarty finished and turned back to Sebastian. ‘I’m sorry dear. That’s life with a teenager in a nutshell - ‘

‘MUM!!’

‘Exactly’ she sighed and headed back down, Seb’s clothes rolled neatly under her arm.

Jim growled with frustration and lied down with his face pressed to his maths notebook. Sebastian pat his back assuringly;

‘Don’t worry. I think you’re an excellent host.’

The younger boy sighed into his notes and raised his head again. He glimpsed at Sebastian and turned back to his calculations.

‘Actually, I told her I’m willing to invite you for the night if it continues to rain’ he mumbled, as if to himself. Seb raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh… that’s very nice of you, but..’

‘It’s only logical’ James interrupted without taking his eyes off the notes ‘Even if your clothes dry by the nighttime, walking all the way to your camp will get you soaked again. Your tent is awesome but I doubt it’s too warm in there. You’re guaranteed to catch a cold. So unless you’re worried about your belongings, I insist that you stay.’

Seb didn’t know what to say to that. James definitely spoke with sense - and he didn’t care much about his stuff as long as he had his wallet with him.

‘But your mum disapproved of the idea?’ He asked cautiously, trying not to hint at his opinion of the invitation. Jim frowned with his healthy eye.

‘At first, yes. Because we don’t have much extra space and she >>won’t have our guest sleeping on the floor <<’ he copied his mum’s tone. Seb smiled hesitantly.

‘I really don’t want to trouble you. I realize I’m being a nuisance just hanging around, messing with your routine…’

‘PFFFF maybe THEIR routine, not mine.’ Jim’s voice was getting louder every time he opened his mouth, which really left Seb quite surprised. It was a very ‘teen’ thing to do, like mrs Moriarty said, and Seb recalled from not-so-remote past his own little fits but it was somewhat uncanny, watching this small quiet thing hiss and snarl on mere mention of his parents he swore to god he loved so much. One thing was obvious; Jim really wanted him to stay over, even if it meant some more fighting with his mum.

‘...Well, if you promise it won’t be a problem…’ he gave up finally. It was going to be awkward, yes, but how often does one get a chance to have a sleepover in rural Ireland, with little goth boy genius and his parents?

James gave him a satisfied smile.

‘I see I talked some sense into you. Now, dig into these sandwiches or my mum will never leave us alone.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally it was supposed to be a longer chapter but it got so dialogue-heavy I decided to split it in two; I'll try my best to finish the other half by the end of this month (?)


	5. To sweet repast and calm repose ...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian spends the night at the Moriarty household and levels up a bit.

After the lights went down, Jim’s room was pitch black. No matter how long Sebastian would stare at his hand spread right in front of his eyes, he could see darkness and darkness only. 

Mr and Mrs Moriarty downstairs already went to bed. The only sounds to be heard was heavy rain still hitting the roof in a mesmerizing rhythm, and wind moaning as it blew across the meadows and hit against the rocks.

That, and James.

‘You said you wanted to study literature’ Seb could hear the younger boy turn on the bed. He was laying on the mattress on the floor, under a thick woolen blanket that smelled like sheep. After several hours in the Moriarty household he was slowly getting used to the aroma and almost found it comforting.

‘Yeah. I like to read and write, figured that’d be something I’d enjoy studying’ he said, trying to hide embarrassment with nonchalant tone.

‘What do you do after you study literature, though?’ James pushed on. Sebastian didn’t really want to go into that but he felt a pang of guilt. This kid was smart enough to try getting to college, so it was only natural that he was using the opportunity to ask the older friend about his future plans. He sighed.

‘As a matter of fact, I have no idea. I don’t really need a useful major. My parents are...kind of well-off.’ He could feel his face burn. Hopefully, he didn’t sound like a complete douche.

‘No offense, Sebastian, but that’s not exactly a secret, is it?’ Jim spoke finally from his spot. 

Sebastian didn’t answer. He hated those conversations, they never brought anything good into his life - just questions whether he has some cash to spare, stupid jokes, fake kindness and fake affection. 

‘Anyway, I would really like to study astronomy. Or astrophysics. Or mathematics. Maybe computer studies?’ Jim’s voice expressed nothing but excitation and after this afternoon Seb could understand why.

He was extremely impressed by the younger boy’s mad math skills - even more so when they came down later that evening to show Jim’s homework to his father, who asked him to re-do most of the equations, not because he did them wrong, but because he did all of calculations entirely in memory. He watched in confusion as they argued over a tricky problem that Jim solved in several unconventional ways and silently congratulated him back in his room. As far as Seb could tell, James Moriarty was a mathematical genius and his place was by no means in a stinking little village; he had a future ahead of him.

‘I think you should try to study at least one of those’ he answered, smiling. He heard Jim’s nervous laughter.

‘I intend to do so! I’m already saving up for college. Might take some time, but … what else can I do?’

Seb stared into the darkness. What else indeed? 

‘Kids with your abilities get accepted to universities. I bet your IQ alone would grant you a place somewhere, and taking your family’s situation into consideration you could probably count on some kind of scholarship…’

He waited a couple of minutes for James to reply, but the boy stayed quiet. Worked up, he went on with his propositions.

‘You’d feel so much better in a city, too. I don’t suppose your looks would be something unusual, even at school. You could find more books that could interest you, more music, new friends…’

‘Sebastian, please… don’t’ Jim interrupted him finally, his voice cracking slightly.  

‘Why? What is holding you here? I mean; you’re still very young but in a year or two…’

‘NO!’ Jim almost screamed this time. Seb shut up, surprised. 

‘Everything is holding me here! Just because you don’t get it, doesn’t make it any less important’ he continued after a pause. ‘When my time comes, I may leave, but now there’s still so many things for me that I hold too dear…’ 

Seb blinked, surprised. It sounded almost rehearsed, as if the boy had written it earlier just in case. As if he was trying to justify his feelings to himself and to others.

‘This land is mine, and every bit of it I know like the back of my hand. The roaring of the sea lulls me to sleep at night, bleating of our sheep wakes me up in the morning. My mum’s cooking and my dad’s woodwork and all the work they put in everything they do to make my life better…’ he paused for a moment, giving Seb an opportunity to speak without rudely interrupting him.

‘With all due respect, I see your point but …’

‘Well, obviously you don’t.’ Jim pouted.

‘...BUT you must see yourself you just gave me a pretty reading of the most cliche patriotic speech for the local candidate in parliament elections. I’ve known you for two days and I can tell this had nothing to do with you.’ He huffed angrily and turned to his other side, facing away from James. 

‘Sorry, I forgot about your mad mind-reading skills. Mister - mister Anglo-enthusiast.’

‘Jim, I spent sixteen years abroad, do you think I liked it in England when my parents flew me there?’

‘You didn’t?’ the younger boy sounded surprised. Seb smiled to himself.

‘I hated every inch of English, hell, British land I stepped on! Everything was wet, cold and grey: weather, sky, houses, people, ME. But I had a choice, go back to Egypt or India or try my strength here... and look at me now. Sleeping in a tent in the Irish wilderness, beating up some underaged bullies and giving fucking life advice to the graveyard poet himself.’ 

A few minutes of silence followed Seb’s little rant. He wasn’t too proud of himself, but Jim’s stance annoyed him to no end. If he decides not to take his advice - fine; he wasn’t sure why he cared so much anyway. Still, something in his gut was telling him this little guy could achieve so much if he escaped the rural closed mindedness and believed in himself.

Jim’s quiet voice broke the silence, making Sebastian wince. 

‘I’m nothing like you. There’s no point in comparing our experiences.’ Seb could swear he heard a little sniffle - did he make the smaller boy cry? ‘I’m a country kid, I’m poor and kinda weird. I get bullied a lot. I’ve never been farther than in the nearby town, let alone abroad. What makes you think your story about abandoning your life and friends in India or wherever will make me change my mind? I want to stay here. I already know where my place is, I don’t need some city folk to inform me about it.’

‘Sigh.’

‘Don’t patronize me, Sebastian. I know my shit.’ Jim’s voice sounded sassy once more, although the stuffed nose was telling him away. Seb decided to ignore it and play along.

‘When I was your age…’

‘...you probably, like, raced your rich friends on elephants.’ 

‘You guessed it. Dressed in feathers and grass skirts. Then we played with our pet tigers and had monkey brains for dinner.’ He could barely hold a chuckle, but Jim giggled first.

‘That was in Indiana Jones. We watched it in the library once. Consider yourself busted.’

 

~~.~~

Despite Jim’s assurance, sheep’s bleating didn’t wake Sebastian up. It was clinking of the pots downstairs that made him leave the weird dream full of bearded, scary dwarves that looked suspiciously similar to mr Moriarty.

He must have fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation, long past midnight. After the initial argument they get on pretty well, talking about films Jim managed to see during the library ‘cinema weekends’, books Seb insisted the smaller boy should read, finally his life back in India…

Sebastian sighed and sat up. The room was still dark, but there wasn’t anything odd about it - after all, it didn’t have any windows. He stretched and glimpsed at Jim’s bed, but it was empty, his sheets folded neatly and rag doll back on the pillow. 

Sadly, his clothes were nowhere to be found. Sebastian tidied after himself, putting his sheets and blankets on the even pile and sat on the bed. He needed to use the bathroom. His exposed legs were covered with goosebumps, and so were his arms sticking from too-short sleeves of mr Moriarty’s shirt. Moreover, his hand needed re-dressing as the bandage got stained at night and his knuckles stung when he moved his fingers. Was it decent to go down and strut around in his undies barely covering morning wood? It was not, he decided, arranging the thinnest blanket around his waist like a long skirt.

He regretted this choice almost immediately as he stood on the first step of the ladder. As if moving with the woollen blanket and hurting hand wasn’t hard already, he was not used to climbing down ladders without seeing his feet. Glad that his blushing face is still over the ceiling, he pulled up his skirt and slowly made his way down to the kitchen.

‘Good morning Sebastian!’ mrs Moriarty was standing by the old fashioned sink and scrubbing a pan. ‘James is helping his father outside. We already had breakfast but I’ll fix you something up in no time’ she gave him a warm smile. ‘Your clothes are right here, dear.’

‘Good morning. And thank you, mrs Moriarty’ Seb said sheepishly, grabbing his nicely folded clothes and putting them in front of the source of his embarrassment. He still needed the bathroom, and it only dawned on him then that he’ll have to use the outhouse. Shit. At least it was better than doing his business in the bushes.

Too lazy to go all the way up for his shoes, he pointed at the door.

‘Can I change in the ba-bathroom?’

Jim’s mum gave him a surprised look, but nodded. He opened the door and peeked outside. The sky cleared out nicely and the sun was doing its job just fine. The grass still glistened with droplets of water and he could see some puddles between the flat stones of the path, but Seb decided that going barefooted will be more of a pleasure than inconvenience. And if so, a minor one, he added to himself, seeing a pooping chicken. 

 

~~.~~

‘That went well’ Seb congratulated himself upon leaving the outhouse, now wearing his own jeans and shirt, the borrowed pyjamas under his arm. He had to give it to the Moriartys that everything was impeccably clean, which was a lot, considering the circumstances. He took a deep breath and was about to head back to the house when he heard raised male voices. He peeked sheepishly from behind a rock to see mr Moriarty and some other man discussing something in Irish and gesticulating angrily. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand grabbing his arm and jumped surprised with a gasp.

‘Shh Seb, it’s me’ James pulled him further away from the house and squatted behind another huge stone. Sebastian joined him, treading carefully on the rocky ground, hoping not to hurt his bare feet. To his surprise, the smaller boy wasn’t wearing any shoes either - his small pale feet were grey from the dirt and sand and had a few cuts on the sides and toes. He had the same trousers on as yesterday, and another black t-shirt, this time a blank one. His bruised eye looked even worse than yesterday, swollen shut and purple like a plum. 

‘It’s Lucas’ father.’ he answered Sebastian’s unuttered question, ‘he is looking for you. Said he was at your camp to ~talk~ about yesterday’s ~incident~’ he gestured appropriately where the inverted commas should go. Sebastian swallowed nervously.

‘So I’m lucky to have stayed here,’ he noticed.

‘Lucky as fuck’ Jim blushed slightly as he swore. ‘He may not look the part but he can give a proper beating. Dad said they would fight a couple of times before’.

‘Well, shit.’

Jim nodded and slowly sat down, hugging his legs. He tried not to let it show, but he was terrified - he couldn’t help rocking slightly as he continued his story.

‘They’ll probably call me in a while, to look at my eye.’

‘You don’t have to go. If this man is violent…’

‘My dad is just as violent. I don’t want him to get mad at me, on top of everything.’ his voice started breaking and Sebastian felt another pang of guilt and sadness. Without thinking twice, he delicately pulled the boy into a hug. 

‘I’ll go with you if they call you’ he promised, stroking him on the back. Jim stiffened.

‘Are you crazy?! That’s wha-’

‘JAMES!’ mr Moriarty’s low voice carried itself well despite the distance. Jim whimpered, but Sebastian grabbed him by the hands and helped to get up.

‘I’ve got your back. Don’t worry. Me and your dad against some loser, what can go wrong?’ He smiled assuringly, even though his stomach twisted painfully, preparing for an unpleasant encounter.

 

They marched proudly from their hiding place and out into the yard, Seb holding Jim firmly by the hand. Mr Moriarty seemed pleasantly surprised to see them together; Sebastian could swear he noticed a little smile hiding in his black bushy beard. Lucas’s father also livened up upon seeing the other boy together with James; his fists rolled tighter as he gave them a toothy smile. He was somewhat taller than James’s dad, but not nearly as tall as Seb; sinewy but not muscular, balding at the top of his head and red-faced from either alcohol or sun exposure. Or both. 

Seb stood next to Jim’s dad and the smaller boy stayed slightly behind, still holding onto his hand. Seb was glad Jim decided to keep on the back; he didn’t want him to get hurt if anything was about to happen...but it wasn’t, right? Trying to look confident he glimpsed at mr Moriarty and the other man. As if in reply, Lucas’ father opened his mouth and a chain of insults Seb understood only partially flew out. Moriarty silenced him, pointing at his house and then James, then pat Sebastian on the back and continued his tirade. Sebastian felt confused, once again caught up in a fight almost entirely led in a language he couldn’t understand. 

‘They’re talking about you. Goban says you should be taken to the police.’ Jim whispered, squeezing Sebastian hand so tight it hurt. Seb frowned. 

‘Excuse me, sir’ he interrupted the stranger as he continued to throw invectives at everyone, ‘but if you h-have any issue to discuss with me, I’d rather you s-spoke to me directly.’He tried to sound calm but his stammer ruined the impression, as usual when he was nervous.

Goban gave him an angry look.

‘So you wan’ fight pretty boy?’ tiny droplets of spit flew out of his mouth as he spoke. Sebastian couldn’t help but shrug. 

‘No, but I’d a-appreciate if you stopped bothering James’ family i-if you have any i-issues with me’. 

‘Well I sure as fffeck do’ Goban sprung forward so close to Seb he could look into his bloodshot eyes and smell liquor in his breath. Oh. That explained a lot. Sebastian concentrated in order not to step away from this dirty drunk. Lucas might not have the most pleasant life with this excuse for a father but it didn’t explain his own behaviour. Sebastian clenched his teeth and tried to look more tough than he felt. It didn’t take too much because he felt very, very scared and confused.

‘I know you beat my boy, you shit’ Goban continued, poking Sebastian’s chest with his finger. Seb slapped his hand away.

‘Sir, your son repeatedly abused James and was about to do it again. I acted in his defense. If this happens again, I will make sure to act accordingly and notify the police.’

‘I’ll fucking kill you before that happens!’ Goban jumped at Seb with surprising for his state grace and grabbed his neck with both hands. Sebastian lost balance and fell on his back. He let out a scream as his head hit the hard ground.

It was easy to fight with Lucas, when he was all worked up and angry and excited but now with his injured hand and good few stones of living tissue pressing against his neck all he could do was fight for air and try to kick the drunk off himself. It was surprising how soon his vision turned blurry and dark when no amount of breathing and gasping brought air into his lungs.

Busy with the struggle he wasn’t able to witness the badassery of mr Moriarty who grabbed his neighbour by the collar and with ease pulled him off Sebastian and threw him on the ground. 

‘GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE’ his low voice sounded like yesterday’s thunder. Goban crawled on the ground backwards, trying to get away from the man. After a few kicks and another couple of swears in Irish, he was gone.

Seb was touching his neck and gasping for air. He didn’t expect any of that to happen. Jim was kneeling next to him and stroking his cheek. His healthy eye was full of tears again.

‘I’m so s-s-sorry…sorry, Sebastian… I… ’ he repeated time after time touching Seb’s face and patting him on the shoulder, attempting to comfort him. 

‘Better me than you, right?’ Seb smiled slightly before he started coughing in fits. Moriarty squatted next to him and gave him a hand.

‘Are you alright, son?’ his face, still slightly red from anger was radiating with approval.


	6. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's stay in Ireland is coming to end.

Leaves of soft, slightly damp grass tickled Sebastian’s feet as he followed Jim up the hill. They both left their shoes by the cottage after Jim explained they’ll be completely drenched by the time they get to their destination and Seb had to admit it was a good idea. He had already dealt with wet sneakers several times during his trip and was growing weary of permanently moist socks.

It was past eleven already but it wasn’t dark - not in the sense Seb would expect it to be. No light could penetrate the thick layer of trees separating Jim’s household from the village and the closest city was miles and miles away, yet he could see Jim’s grey t-shirt, his pale arms and legs, contour of his tar black hair almost as well as during the day. The sky was more vivid and luminous than he’s ever seen it - even during the New Year’s Eve or Guy Fawkes’ Day, freckled with millions of glittery, twinkling points. He couldn’t keep his eyes off.

“Don’t stare just yet, wait till we’re on the top” James exclaimed, looking back at the other boy “mind your feet or you’ll fall.”

But Sebastian could hear the excitement in his voice - it was Jim’s idea in the first place and they awaited the dusk anxiously since the sky cleared up in the afternoon. Mrs Moriarty even packed them a few sandwiches and a blanket. The boy admitted his parents would rarely let him go stargazing all by himself so she was more than happy that he’s found someone ready to accompany him.

 

Finally on the top of the hill James stopped in a wide stance and raised his arms up to the sky, like greeting an old forgotten god. Sebastian joined him and put his hand on his shoulder, causing the other boy to jump. Damn, he thought, muttering an apology. Jim brushed it off and snatched the blanket from Seb, stretched it on the ground and sat down, cross-legged. He pat the free space by his side.

“Don’t just stand like an idiot, come on.” Seb obediently plopped down, noting how the thick grass under the blanket made it soft and springy like a mattress. Then, he lied down and opened his mouth in awe. Stretched before him was the Universe, more beautiful than any movie or photograph he’s seen. 

 

Minutes passed before he started feeling dizzy and briefly shifted to look at Jim, just to find him spread next to him, his bruised face finally peaceful and radiating with love. Sebastian smiled to himself and pulled himself up. He was fishing in his bag for a sandwich when he heard Jim move and then felt pressure on his lap. 

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, almost inaudibly. Sebastian nodded and delicately shifted, not wanting to spread breadcrumbs over Jim’s face.

“Usually I can only see Ursa Major” he admitted, “Sometimes Orion. This … this is an entirely different story. I see why you love astronomy so much, growing up with this above your head.”

“It’s hard to imagine the sky not looking like this” the smaller boy said, all comfortable with his head on Sebastian’s lap. “I never really thought about how I’ll miss it when I move away” he added quietly. Seb eyed him, a little surprised.

“It didn’t take you long to change your mind about abandoning your rural paradise.”

James decided not to give him the blessing of a reply. Sebastian ate his sandwich, which was quite nice now that he got used to the taste of sheep cheese, and leaned back supported on his arms to stare some more into the cosmic display over his head.

“Do you know the names of all these?” he asked finally, trying to spark up another conversation. It was eerily quiet without Jim’s usual chatter.

“Of course not. Just a few” the high pitched voice answered from his lap “I don’t think you really want me to tell you about them though”.

“Why not?”

“It’s probably the last time you’ll see them here. Why store useless information in your brain?” his voice sounded more nasal now and upon looking down at his face Sebastian could see a faint glimmer of a tear in Jim’s healthy eye. Shit, he thought to himself, here we go.

Delicately, he sat upright and put his hand on the smaller boy’s head, brushing the unruly fringe off his forehead. His lower lip started shaking and he could swear he just heard a sniffle. 

“I know it might sound a little odd but I do like it here, you know. I will gladly come back some time and go stargazing with you again.”

Jim sobbed. Seb continued on stroking his hair, sunken in thought.

This kid was so lonely and miserable, and now he was giving him possibly false hope… in fact, all he’s been doing was promising him god knows what: university, city life, career, while without money and proper direction all he could achieve was a prize for a well-kept sheep, or something like that. Life was unfair and Jim has been treated especially cruelly. He didn’t deserve the pain of losing a friend, even if the latter was an old and rather unintelligent dude from across the sea. He will be back. And he will take his address and write to him. Send him stuff, even. And he’ll sit here until this little boy genius lists all of the constellations he knows of.

“I promise”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I think.... I really wanted to get to a particular part of this story but couldn't force myself to write the lead-up to it... so I just didn't! GENIUS! Hope I'll get the motivation to continue writing without... such... long... pauses...

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my bff and beta, m-s-b, for helping me along the way <3


End file.
